


One Moment

by Destielixer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Porn, Sheriarty - Freeform, Smut, jimlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-27 13:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destielixer/pseuds/Destielixer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘All I wanted was just for that moment to feel that I was loved by you, Sherlock…’ One moment of love is all Moriarty needs. It’s been years since he has seen Sherlock and even then, he cannot come to terms with his heart over what they do together in the living room of 221B. Sheriarty. ONESHOT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys! I'm back with a new BBC Sherlock fic, this time i'm doing Sheriarty/Jimlock story. I seem to be able to write more of this for some reason...haha. Anyway this story is for my friend whose birthday is today :) Happy Birthday babe haha. Okay so please do read and leave me some comments okay? Thanks!

Jim Moriarty stood on Baker Street, watching from afar now as Sherlock sent the doctor John Watson into a cab, the doctor was going off to work at the clinic. He smirked just as the detective shut the door, slowly, he turned around the corner walking with ease down the street. His eyes glittering as Sherlock closed the door behind him, not noticing a thing. Jim approached the door, his key in hand. No he obviously did not live here. He had gotten it made right from John’s own set when he had taken the doctor’s set.

221B. The detective’s house. Sherlock Holmes would be sitting in his room, experimenting with something or another, Jim shivered at the thought of that, at the thought of Sherlock. He loved the man with all his dark little heart but Sherlock just didn’t understand. He slid the key into the lock and slipped into the house, up the stairs and strutted into the living room of the apartment. Jim spotted Sherlock, sitting at the desk, his cheeks flushed slightly as he stared at the screen of the computer.

Jim cleared his throat, the detective looking up to him at that, in shock. Clearly the man had totally not expected this, he had been caught totally off guard. Jim grinned all the more devilishly at Sherlock’s surprise.

“Hello Sherlylocks,” Jim said softly, head tilted to the side just a little, acting coy now.

“What are you doing here,” Sherlock growled, looking at the smartly dressed criminal mastermind, smirking at him. The smirk on the other’s face suited him well, he was like a crocodile waiting for its next prey and it sent a shiver through Sherlock’s body as the other approached.

“Visiting,” Jim said, watching the detective turn the computer away, making the screen unable for him to see, “It seems I have disrupted you in your usual routine of morning porn,” Jim said with a laugh.

Sherlock froze, the earpiece still in his hands as he studied the other, “You’ve been watching me. For how long?”

Jim grinned, striding over to the table now, resting his hands on the table as he turned the computer back to himself, the screen of incriminating evidence sitting there, “As long as I have lived,” Jim said with a little chuckle, he pulled out the earplugs from the laptop unit and set it on the table as he played the video once more, the voices of a woman’s moans echoing through the little room, ‘Oh yes, more, fuck me more,’ Jim laughed at the way the detective seemed so uncomfortable in his seat.

“Turn that off Jim,” Sherlock said, reaching for the computer but the other smacked his hand away with another grin.

“No. Sherlock, how can I deprive you of this wonderful video?” Jim said as he quirked a brow at his favourite detective.

Flustered, Sherlock turned away. Indeed the video had been…surprisingly wonderful. He had started watching more and more of these sort of things ever since the last week when he had somehow had the desire of fornication. Not just with anyone, it always just so happened when that word came to mind…or words like, fuck and sex and anything so crude with a sexual innuendo for that matter came to mind, he would think of only one person. The man that was standing before him now, in a crisp grey suit, Jim Moriarty, his mortal enemy.

Jim smirked as he went away from the video to click on another on the website. Sherlock had gotten a seriously good website that even he would never have thought possible. He was the detective after all, he would have to know of such things, “Might I ask why were you watching it?” Jim purred as he took a seat at the table opposite Sherlock now, turning the computer to him as he loaded another video.

“What do you mean why?” Sherlock asked feigning ignorance now, Jim had left him staring at the Apple logo and Sherlock didn’t want that, no, he wanted to go back to the video!

“Were you feeling the need?” Jim said with a laugh now as he kicked off his shoes under the table, “Or were you perhaps in heat?” he purred now as he trailed his feet up Sherlock’s leg.

Sherlock balked, quickly moving back at the sneaky little touch that trailed up his leg, in his hurry, hitting his foot on the side of the table and nearly falling over had he not caught onto the chair. Jim in his house, seemed to unsettle him a lot, it wasn’t like him to be so…nervous, so careless so…different. “Don’t do that Jim,” Sherlock growled, giving a dark glare at the criminal mastermind who only smirked and turned the laptop back to him.

“Here you go love, this is one of my favorites,” Jim purred as he watched Sherlock, look to him and then at the computer, like an animal trying to weigh the pros and cons of its actions. Jim set his chin in his hands, watching as the detective sat back down in the chair, taking up the earplugs as he was about to fit them in.

“No no, you’re going to play it out loud Sherlock, overcome your fear,” Jim chuckled, watching as those blue-grey eyes stared at him once more, thin lips opening to reply him, “I don’t fear hearing sounds of such a nature,” the detective growled as he flung the earplugs back to the side.

“Good, then watch it,” Jim said, seeing Sherlock obediently going to play the video.

The detective nearly jumped out of his seat again, this time, the video was different, it was of a man and another man, both lying in bed, kissing and touching each other, hands  roaming over places Sherlock himself hadn’t even touched in years. He leaned in closer to the screen the breathy voices of the two men echoing around the room. This aroused him pretty darn much better than the last video.

Jim chuckled, watching as Sherlock’s lips parted, pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips. Oh yes, the detective was indeed enjoying this. Jim watched as Sherlock shifted in his seat now, the detective’s hand unnoticing to the man’s own eyes disappearing beneath the table, his eyes were glued to the screen, pupils blown black with lust now as Jim guessed what would be happening. Unaware to Sherlock, the criminal mastermind slid off his seat and down under the table.

Sherlock felt a tight hot heat rising in his groin, the aching sensation was so great his hand fumbled with the strings to his pajama pants, they were however pushed aside by more deft fingers, easily pulling the strings free and lowering his pants. Too distracted to notice, Sherlock allowed for that as his cock was freed, cool fingers going to wrap around them, squeezing gently and massaging him as a soft warm heat kissed down his length, then enveloped the head. His stomach twisted in knots now as he shifted back in his seat, a soft breathy sigh escaping his lips as more of his erection was taken into the hot, wet heat.

Sherlock’s eye flicked to the seat across him and realized Jim was gone and it was the sweet languid sucking on his erection that made him look down this time and the other was there, smirking up at him now as he licked his lips. The detective flushed, looking away, how…his eyes looked from the screen then back to Jim.

“You’ve got something to say Sherlock?” Jim asked, his fingers now gently playing over the detectives length, lightly trailing over the veins.

Sherlock leaned his head back, oh yes, whatever Jim was doing it was good he wanted to fuck him, “Get up,” he said to Jim as he pulled his chair back, standing now as he stepped out of his pants, shrugging out of the blue robe, he tossed off the shirt as well. He grabbed Jim now from under the table, roughly shoving the other onto the carpeted floor as his lips found Jim’s kissing roughly now as Jim fought the onslaught.

The detective didn’t want that, singlehandedly he pinned Jim’s hands up above his head now as he slid his tongue against the other’s, tongues dancing together for dominance now as his other hand smoothed down the front of Jim’s dress shirt, tearing at the buttons now, he fumbled for some moments with the belt now as he pulled it from Jim’s pants.

Jim was panting, lips swollen from the assault, chest exposed to the detective now, Sherlock’s blue-grey’s staring into his, “I’m going to tie you up,” the other whispered, using his belt to tie his hands securely above his head. Jim smirked, he liked being tied, “What have I been naughty?” he purred as Sherlock’s hands smoothed over his body now, down his neck over his ribs and his sides, going to undo his pants.

“Naughty? You’ve been extremely ill-disciplined,” Sherlock growled smirking now as Jim lifted his hips to allow him to fully remove his pants. Sherlock licked his lips at the sight laid out before him, Jim Moriarty, criminal mastermind, lying on his carpet, bound up in his belt. Clearly the criminal mastermind was excited as well judging from the state of his erection.

“Ill-disciplined how?” Jim yelped as Sherlock’s hand grasped his cock. Holy hell, for a man who didn’t know much about sex and love he knew just how to apply the right pressure.

“For tempting me,” Sherlock growled into Jim’s ear as he began to pump the other’s erection just as he had seen on those videos many a time before.

Jim, struggled against the bonds, he wanted to touch Sherlock, to hold him.

“You’re not going to,” Sherlock said, shaking his head, “You’ll stay put.”

Jim obeyed now as Sherlock stood, going over to his desk, searching through the contents in the drawer and coming back with some lube. Sherlock quickly tossed is pajama top to the side now, completely naked. Jim smiled his favourite detective, naked before him. He watched as the detective coated his finger with the slick gel, then brought it to his nether entrance, rubbing circles around gently till he pushed through.

The tight heat that sucked on Sherlock’s fingers turned him on like god only knew. Jim writhed beneath him, his hips thrusting up now. Sherlock scissored his fingers in Jim’s tight heat loosening him up now, the other’s pale thighs falling apart now, pushing him deeper, he stroked his fingers against Jim, hearing the criminal mastermind moaning for him, “…in me…Sherlock…want you…” he heard and he smirked. If he could be the one to dole out the punishment, he knew what he would want to do to punish him.

“Fuck,” Jim cried into his arm, hiding his face as he felt the tears well to his eyes, Sherlock pushed deep into him now seated inside him fully. Jim kept his face hidden he hadn’t thought it would hurt this much.

“Are you alright?” Sherlock asked, stopping now, going to reach for Jim’s face but the other pulled away from his touch.

“Just move,” Jim whispered. He didn’t want to get attached just because of this. It was a fling a onetime thing. Nothing more, he didn’t want it to be sweet love making. It wasn’t something to be shared between them. Jim, bit back a cry of pain as Sherlock pulled out only to push back in rather too quickly, overcome by the need now as he held on tight to his hips.

Slowly the pain subsided and Jim felt the splintering of pleasure through his body as Sherlock now pounded repeatedly into his prostate, “Oh! Sherlock! Yes! Fuck me!” he whispered the words leaving his lips, _‘Just like the little slut you are’_ his mind whispered to him, but he pushed that away as he felt Sherlock’s lips cover his again, kissing him nearly almost gently as he pounded into him.

Sherlock could feel it the bond between them as their lips met and their bodies connected at once, Jim Moriarty was so much like him then again so different. A genius gone wrong and something stirred in Sherlock, he cradled Jim to him as he kissed him, trying to show him that he cared. Maybe it was just a thing, a sort of emotion that was accompanied by such intimate acts.

Jim had to ignore it, had to ignore the feeling completely lest he fall into the trap of love. He kept his eyes closed now as Sherlock came inside him calling his name, Jim cumming with him at nearly the same time as he gripped onto the other, head buried in the crook of Sherlock’s neck. _‘I love you’_ he thought as he felt Sherlock pull out of him, releasing his hands now.

Jim looked to the other for a moment then turned away, gathering his clothes in silence as Sherlock too went to gather his clothes. Both acting as strangers once more, arch rivals, forever against each other and yet…the intimate act they had just committed.

“This doesn’t change anything Jim,” Sherlock murmured as he tightened the ties of his robe around his waist.

“No. It doesn’t, it changes nothing at all,” Jim said as he got dressed, quickly pulling on his clothes, “You’re still my most hated person,” he purred as he straightened his clothes, walking to the door now, slightly unsteady, “I look forward to seeing you again, Sherlylocks,” he said with a laugh as he took to the stairs.

_‘All I wanted was just for that moment to feel that I was loved by you, Sherlock…’_

Sherlock stood at the window now, watching as Jim rounded the corner of Baker Street and disappeared from view. He wondered, just when would he see that criminal again?


	2. Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys so i'm back and I've decided to make this into a short ficlet! So i hope you guys do support me on this. And yes i know it might seem a bit out of character but hey, that's why fanfics are written right? Do leave me some comments on what you think!

The next time that Sherlock saw Moriarty wasn’t too long after their first encounter. Sherlock had sent John on ahead to the site first to gather information. He himself was at the hospital now, conducting experiments on the materials that he himself had gathered the day before. He was bent looking into the microscope and scribbling onto a piece of paper when he heard the familiar chuckle as the door closed.

“Hello Sherlylocks,” Jim purred and Sherlock shuddered at that, setting his pen down, watching as the criminal mastermind took out his coat now he was dressed as in jeans and a tee-shirt. Just something in his dressing made Sherlock want to walk over to the other and kiss him.

“What’s with the dressing, you look gay. Are you?” Sherlock asked, ignoring as the other laughed and headed over in his direction.

“Can’t say for sure Sherlylocks, are you? You’re wearing your purple shirt of gay,” Jim teased as he whispered into the detective’s ear, looking over his shoulder at the results that he had gathered. Jim was surprised that the detective was already onto the case this quickly. Well that would mean that he would see Sherlock pretty soon again.

“Why are you here?” Sherlock asked as he shifted in his seat, Jim rounding the table to stand before him.

“Why else?” Jim said with a playful shrug, pointing a finger at him.

“Me? What do you want with me?” Sherlock asked, changing the slides on the microscope as he adjusted the focus on the instrument.

Jim trailed a finger over Sherlock’s hand, then let his hand cover the detective’s own, “I’m sure you know Sherlylocks. You know why I’m here and you’re denying it.”

“I’m not denying anything,” Sherlock said, taking his hand out from under Moriarty’s. This man was as unreadable as himself, his mood swings were one of the most bizarre ones that Sherlock had ever seen, yet, he guessed that was exactly what drew him in to the other.

“Are you afraid your dear John will walk in on us?” Jim asked, if there was one thing that he really hated, it would definitely have to be Sherlock’s companion, John Watson. The man was too good, too innocent and Sherlock liked him too much. The detective though possibly still unaware of it himself, harbored feelings for the doctor and Jim didn’t like that. No, he didn’t like it at all.

“John is at the crime scene, you probably already know that, that’s why you came here. Have you been watching me?” Sherlock asked, looking to the other who shrugged, picking up one of the slides and taking a look at the sample that he had collected. “If you’re here for what happened last time, it was nothing more than a onetime thing. I thought we had that established?” Sherlock asked, his own voice much colder than he had expected it to be.

“I know. I wasn’t here on that, I told you before it meant nothing,” Jim whispered as he set the glass slide back down, feelings stirring in him again, he was lying, clearly lying. He walked over to the window now, looking down into the street.

“Did it really mean nothing to you?” Sherlock asked for some reason, watching the back of the other as Jim stood facing out, there was anything but the strength of a criminal mastermind in that posture. If anything Sherlock would say he was vulnerable, open and weak and he needed to be comforted. By someone, by him.

Concern? Was the detective actually concerned about him…it was hard to believe, he hadn’t ever cared at all. Never, not since they had left each other back a long time ago, that was a story for another time. All he wanted to do was to take Sherlock and get the hell out of here, “What’s it to you?” Jim asked as he clenched his fingers slowly before releasing them again placing it on the wall as he leaned against it.

Sherlock silently made his way over to the window, standing behind Jim, the other’s strong cologne filling his nostrils it was an exotic scent, Sherlock hadn’t smelt it on anyone before and it certainly suited Jim well. The happenings back at 221B came flooding back to his mind, the loveless sex that they had indulged in. The sex that Sherlock, no matter how hard he tried to deny it, missed.

Had it really been loveless?  “Did you really feel nothing?” Sherlock whispered into Jim’s ear his hand covering Jim’s smaller one as they stood at the window, looking out into the street below. The little heads that were people walking in the street.  

“There was nothing to feel. I was playing with you,” Jim answered, laughing a little nervously now as Sherlock’s lips kissed him softly on the neck making him shiver, “Don’t get attached to me Sherlylocks…I’m not good for you,” Jim said, his lips parted on a sigh as Sherlock sucked hard, making a mark on his neck.

“You still aren’t good at lying Jim,” Sherlock whispered, pressing his body to the other’s his right hand slipping around Jim’s slender waist, pulling him close, “if you didn’t care, if you didn’t feel anything truthfully, you would have left awhile back,” he stated drawing his lips back up to Jim’s ear, “You’re persistent, pushing my buttons wanting me to react, you crave attention, my attention. You care.”

Sherlock’s whispers made him shiver and Jim wanted to pull free but he was trapped between the window and Sherlock’s body now and Sherlock clearly had plans to make him confess as the detective’s hand slid down the front of his jeans, fingers stroking up and down his length now. His breath hitched in this throat as Sherlock’s lips, suckled on his neck, tongue laving his bruised skin as singlehandedly, Sherlock pulled his jeans down, just enough to expose his now erect length.

Jim leant his head to the cool glass of the window as Sherlock’s hand began to stroke him up and down. He struggled a little at first as smooth long fingers teased his cock, wanting to pull away but Sherlock’s constant reminder was there his left hand pinning his own to the wall, not allowing the slightest slip up of an escape.

His breath frosted up the window now as Sherlock fondled his balls now, skilled fingers massaging gently as he continued to stimulate him. Jim moaned as he felt Sherlock’s hips rocking into his the smooth material of Sherlock’s work pants caressing his bare skin as the other pressed his hard on against him, a reminder to Jim that Sherlock too was turned on by this. Turned on by their act of intimacy.

“Tell me you don’t care again Jim Moriarty,” Sherlock growled into the criminal mastermind’s ear, stroking his length, “Tell me it was just a fling,” he sneered his voice gruff and low with need, as Jim was reduced to a panting writhing mass beneath him, lips parted as he called for him, “Sherlock…fling…I…don’t l-love…you,” he heard the words squeezed from Jim’s mouth just as he came, hot seed coating Sherlock’s hand, dripping down the other man’s thighs. Jim’s rapid breathing calming now.

“You’re a liar Jim Moriarty. A bloody liar.”

If anyone down on the street that morning ever looked up to the third story window of Saint Bartholomew’s Hospital, the one right at the corner, they would see, a man. They would recognize him as Jim Moriarty the criminal mastermind, he would appear to be crying, a tear falling down his cheek now as he reigned in the emotions. They would shake their head, imagining it to be a hallucination, because of their stereotyped minds. Criminal masterminds would never have shed a tear, let alone shed a tear over a lie to the one that they loved, yet could not have.


	3. Your Dear Brother

Jim hadn’t wanted to resort to kidnapping but if anything, his urge to see Sherlock Holmes outweighed all the others by far. He had yet to see him in so long so now and he missed him so much even though he couldn’t say that he loved the other. So Jim had Sebastian Moran strap on the bombs to John’s body as he stood in the parka, the final plan to draw Sherlock into his trap. Jim nodded in satisfaction as he took his place now, the bomb set to go off in an hour’s time. Sherlock would definitely come for him, this one, John was his precious doctor.

“Jim Moriarty show yourself!” Sherlock yelled as he looked around the eerily lit pool, the light gleaming off the water, lighting up the place.

Sure enough as Jim had expected, Sherlock had arrived, he smirked as he spotted Sherlock going over to John, “Stop right there Sherlock,” Jim said, coming out of his hiding place. “You’re not going anywhere,” Jim said, his hand signaling Sebastian to train the sniper on Sherlock. The red laser beam taking aim right between the detective’s eyes, “How’d you enjoy it? Our little game Sherlock?”

“You’re mad Jim, this doesn’t concern John at all, it’s between us. Just us,” Sherlock said, his gaze flickering to the timer on John’s body then back to Jim.

“Doesn’t concern John? You forgot why exactly I kidnapped him. Or is something clouding your judgment Sherlylocks? John Watson was taken because he’s a direct link to you, the only one that you care for the most isn’t that right Sherlock?” Jim asked, his voice ringing through the cavernous swimming complex. That’s right Sherlock only cared for John now and not him at all.

Sherlock knew what this was all about. Moriarty’s apparent not caring resulted in things like this, destructive, damaging acts that would leave people scarred for life. “So you took him just because you knew I would come running. Is that it? Very good, I’m here now Jim, so let him go. It’s me you want isn’t it?” Sherlock asked taking a step forward cautiously.  

“Let him go…it would be so boring,” Jim purred, “But fine, I’ll let him go since you’re here already, say your bloody goodbyes and you’re coming with me,” Jim said, resetting the bomb now so that it was harmless, he stood watching as Sherlock took the bomb off John, tossing it away. The detective’s hands brushing off the other and checking him over. Jim rolled his eyes, “I don’t have all night Sherlock!” Jim growled.

Once Sherlock had John safely out of the swimming complex and on his way home, he turned back to matters at hand, the sniper’s red laser was still on him. “Are you going to let Sebastian kill me?” Sherlock asked taking a step closer to Jim now that they were almost alone. Jim waved his hand once more and then the red laser beam was gone, Sebastian having left the scene.

“He’s gone. No need to worry, It’s just you and me now,” Jim said, looking to Sherlock once more, his blue-grey eyes studying him.  

“So why’d you call me here this time Jim after what you said the last time. I thought nothing’s changed?” Sherlock asked his eyes observing the criminal mastermind.

Jim turned, facing his back to Sherlock once more, not trusting himself to look at the detective, “Nothing much has changed…I just like seeing you around…but not in an ‘I love you manner’,” Jim murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked about the sides of the pool now Sherlock following close behind.

Sherlock laughed, just a little at Jim’s way of phrasing things, he knew exactly that the other liked him, had studied him enough to guess if just a bit, plus what had previously happened before in the past…he’d just about confirmed it, though why the other was so afraid of telling him now was another thing.

“You can always just ask to see me you know?” Sherlock said.

“No I can’t. Criminal mastermind remember?” Jim asked turning to face him nearly too quickly that if Sherlock hadn’t caught his arm Jim would be in the pool. Slightly shaken, Jim clung to the detective now, his heart running at a thousand miles an hour as he stood there, “I can’t just ask to see you Sherlock, it’s not my way. It’s not how criminals work, you can’t just stroll up to the detective’s house and leave with a fucked-fresh look! You don’t know me anymore,” Jim said, with renewed vigor as he stepped away from the detective.

“Don’t know you anymore?” Sherlock scoffed, “I know you better than anyone Jim, I know your heart better than anyone else’s. You want to say I don’t know you? Fine, but tell me who was the one who left first? You Jim, left me all alone in school to go abroad and you never contacted me. I didn’t even know if you were dead or alive,” Sherlock said watching as Jim’s eyes looked to his once more.

“I left because of your dear brother,” Jim growled, “He wanted me to break contact with you as a friend. So I did. I went overseas, ran away with Sebastian Moran, fell in love with him, became a criminal mastermind and came back here to London only because I heard about you, consulting detective,” Jim said stabbing a finger in Sherlock’s direction, “I came back for you. I devised plans to see you, planting bombs and playing games is the only way I know how Sherlock. I cannot be with you anymore as a normal person, I’ve already given that up a long time ago,” Jim said with a sad little smirk, “but I’m sure you already got that fixed haven’t you?”

“What? John? He and I…we…” Sherlock trailed off seeing the other not wanting to hear.

Jim held up a hand, “I don’t need to know,” he said pushing off the wall that he was leaning on, “That is your personal life and I am not involved in it at all, not anymore,” he said calmly as he strode over to Sherlock now, he leaned in, his eyes meeting the taller man’s eyes, “This isn’t goodbye yet Sherlock, not yet, I’ll be back. I have more planned in store for the two of us, our scripts have yet to run out.”

Sherlock grasped the other by the chin now, kissing him, roughly with anger at first. Then gently, when he felt Jim give in to him, tasting the other sweet on his lips. He felt a deep sorrow emanating from the criminal mastermind, no…his friend, the young man that he had used to love, caught in the trappings of a criminal mastermind, a beast that his own brother had created.

“If it wasn’t for Mycroft-” Sherlock began but was stopped by Jim once more.

“It wasn’t his fault. I wanted it to. I loved the thrill in killing people, chasing them down, hunting them before finally holding them captive and killing them as they incessantly plead for their bloody insignificant lives,” Jim said with a laugh, “It’s the way things work Sherlock, the way the world works or haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Sherlock watched as Jim, gave him a final devilish smirk before turning and walking towards the exit to the swimming complex.

“In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king,” Jim rattled off as he pushed against the doors of the swimming complex, looking back to Sherlock who stood rooted, watching him, “and honey you should see me in a crown.”


	4. Come Back To Me

_‘Crown? What crown? Think…’_ Sherlock berated himself as he lay in his bed, the fifth day in a row that he had done that, lain in bed for hours in the morning trying to figure out what Jim had meant by that statement he’d made right back at the swimming complex. He was completely out of ideas already and as he was hanging off the edge of the bed this dreary London morning, John burst into his room.

“Sherlock, we have a problem, someone broke into the bank, the vault in Buckingham Palace and the military defense HQ,” John said, hurrying him out of bed now as the doctor took him to the television.

Sherlock sat on his seat, eyes glued to the screen now as they were playing footage from the vault’s camera, it showed a man waltzing up towards the glass panels that contained the crown and the royal scepter along with the cape. What appeared to be a fire hydrant in his hands. The footage stopped now as it was brought around and Sherlock saw clearly the face and what was written on the glass casing, ‘get Sherlock’.

He froze in his seat. What was Moriarty thinking, by doing this? He could be caught and sentenced to life imprisonment!

“Sherlock what do we do? He’s gone and done it again. You’re going to get hurt if you do this Sherlock,” John said, blue eyes turned to him.

“I have no choice John, look, he’s asked for me specifically, we need to head down to wherever it is that they’re holding him,” Sherlock said storming back to his room now as he quickly got ready and changed into a new suit, he grabbed his cloak of the rack now, John following suit as they left the apartment together.

He hailed a cab and after letting John into the cab entered himself, it wasn’t long into the drive when Lestrade gave him a call and told him of where Jim was being held at, he told the driver the new address and sat back, waiting to arrive at the prison.

-

The black cab pulled up on the side of the curb already reporters had gathered around and as Sherlock stepped out they began to ask him questions, he swiftly moved past them, avoiding their recorders and questions as he climbed the steps, meeting Lestrade right at the top.

“We’ve held him in for questioning, you’ve got some time alone. Thought you might want to do something about it,” Lestrade said looking to Sherlock, he knew of the man’s past well enough to know that if anything, Sherlock will be the one to put the idea out of Moriarty’s head.

“Hold of the press, I don’t want any recording of the session at all. No cameras  at all in the room, I need to be alone with him…” Sherlock said, stalking past the inspector and into the facility, he stopped before going into the holding area, turning to John now, “John I want you to stay here okay?” Sherlock said taking the doctor by the shoulders.

“Why? What if he does something to you?” John asked, concerned for his friend.

“Don’t worry, you have to trust me on this John, I know he won’t hurt me,” Sherlock said, then turned, striding down the cell block and right to the one at the end, the guard went to unlock the door and open it for him, but Sherlock stopped him.

“If you would, I’d like to speak to him alone,” he said voice menacingly low, the guard looked a little irritated now but he strode down the hall the way he had come. Taking a breath Sherlock opened the great metal door to find Jim sitting knees drawn up to him on the bed, looking up to him with a smirk as he entered.

“I’m glad you came Sherlylocks,” Jim said seeing Sherlock in all his glory as the detective closed the door and strode over to him in the small cell, his presence almost intimidating as his lips pursed into a thin, grim line.

“Why did you do that?” Sherlock asked, keeping his gaze locked onto Jim’s he was furious.  

“What? Wear the crown? Strut around in the cape?” Jim asked raising a brow as if this amused him, “Didn’t I tell you that you should see me in a crown Sherlock?” Jim asked chuckling at the sight of the shock on Sherlock’s face clearly the other had thought him still far too innocent, far too good to actually go in and wear the Queen’s crown and what’s more break into the bank and military.

“Are you mad?” Sherlock growled, throwing himself at Jim now as he grabbed his chin, near strangling the other man who laughed at him, making a kissy face at him before Sherlock set him back down.

“Mad is such a cruel word don’t you think? I’d prefer eccentric like yourself,” he said coyly, “What did you think Sherlock? Was it good? My acting?”

“Jesus Jim!” Sherlock growled pulling the man up to stand before him, “I don’t even know what the hell the sentence is for breaking in to London’s three most highly secured places! They could give you a life sentence, or have you executed! I don’t know. Tell me Jim, why did you do it?” Sherlock asked he knew what people were going to say if he didn’t condemn Jim.  

Jim smirked, leaning into Sherlock, “Because I can. Because I liked it. It was so fun to see them all so amazed, humans and the odd minds. You think that too don’t you Sherlock?” he asked circling the detective, “Besides, what’s more is that…it’s part of my play Sherlock,” Jim whispered.

“What are you playing at?” Sherlock asked, grabbing Jim’s hand, stopping the other in his tracks.

“Winning you over. Join me Sherlock,” Jim whispered, hugging Sherlock now his arms wrapping around the detective’s waist, pressing his body to him, “we would be so good together Sherlock, we could go against your brother, Mycroft won’t have a thing to say about it because if he did, the next moment he’ll be living on the streets. Or better still,” Jim whispered as he pulled back, motioning the slitting of his throat.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around the shorter man, cradling him to his chest. Jim had gone wrong, so wrong, he had been brainwashed and god only knows how to save him, “It doesn’t work that way Jim, they will take you in to court to question you and I will be used to go against you I will testify against you and hook or by crook they will want me to prove you guilty,” Sherlock murmured, “Why did you have to do this? If it was anything else I could save you, I could get you out!”  

“You’re going to do it then? Take up a case against me?” Jim asked looking up to Sherlock.

“I have to.”

Jim smiled, hiding his feelings again, “Good. I’d like to see you in court Sherlock,” he whispered, standing on tiptoe now as he pressed his lips to the detective’s kissing him hard, his hands fisted in Sherlock’s dark hair. A desperate attempt to hold on to the thing he loved the most. The man that he loved the most and one who would sentence him to death. As they pulled away there was a clanking at the door, the guard was back, and their time was up.

Jim pulled away from Sherlock, sitting back down on the bed now watching as John came in, “Sherlock…I…” he whispered stopping the other in mid step now, he hung his head, no he can’t do it.

“Come we need to prepare the case,” he heard Sherlock say as he looked up now, catching a glimpse of the detective and John.

“Sherlock…” he called his voice soft inaudible as it cracked, the guard slammed the door shut just as Jim rushed to it leaning against the cold metal, “Sherlock…” he repeated holding back the tears now, “I love you…I wish I could tell you…but I’m a coward…” he whispered his fists gently pounding the door now as his tears began to fall freely, his sobs echoing through the cell, alone. He was once again alone and he had lost that one moment to tell Sherlock what he needed to know.

“Come back…come back to me…” he whispered his voice trailing off as he slid down the metal door, curling into himself.


	5. One Final Act

The day had arrived. The final act. Jim pulled on his pressed suit, straightening his tie as he buttoned up the jacket. He’s worn a suit shirt and jeans now. He saw Sebastian looking at him through the mirror, his eyes showing sadness. Jim crossed over to him, “Hey, don’t look like that Seb, I’ll be fine,” Jim whispered, caressing the man’s stubbled cheek.

“You don’t have to do this Jim,” Sebastian said, holding on to Jim’s hand.

Jim laughed lightly pulling his hand away from Sebastian’s, “Give me the pistol now,” he said holding out his hand as Sebastian handed him the black Colt pistol.

“Jim,” he warned before putting it in his master’s hand.

Jim snatched it from Sebastian, “Don’t make me ask twice,” he said tucking the pistol into the holster in his jacket, “Now goodbye Sebastian,” he said, hugging him now before quickly pulling away, “Don’t forget you’re covering John,” he said. Jim made his way out of the house now, taking a cab down to the hospital.

He waited on the rooftop watching as the cab pulled up below. His heart was beating like mad, Jim closed his eyes, counting the moments till Sherlock would arrive on the roof top.

“Jim, you bastard,” Sherlock growled seeing the other sitting serenely on the ledge of the hospital’s roof.

“What did I do now?” Jim asked sighing dramatically.

“You erased your records. It’s gone completely gone! There’s nothing about you at all!” Sherlock growled.

“Oh yes. I erased Jim Moriarty and replaced him with Brook. Did you like that?” Jim asked, standing now as he dusted off his jeans, “Don’t you see how easily people can turn against you? One moment they’re your best ‘friends’,” Jim said miming the inverted commas, “the next they’re throwing you out to die. Condemning you, saying you’re a fraud and a liar. But not me, I’m still here for you. I believe in you Sherlock.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “That’s because you created it Jim! You turned them against me! You made them,” Sherlock said pointing in the general direction of the city, “hate me!” he snarled pointing at himself now. Jim had gone too far. First it had been the court case where he had refused to speak one word, making Sherlock’s evidence useless and now this.

“That was all I wanted to show you, that your best friends will turn on you when you need them the most Sherlock,” Jim said, “So you can join me now, join me and I can change everything, I can erase Sherlock Holmes from the world and I can give you a new identity. You will be mine Sherlock and we can be together,” Jim murmured smiling.

“Or you can not join me and have your dear friends killed. Starting with John,” Jim purred, seeing Sherlock’s wrath totally unleashed upon him as the other dangled him over the edge of the building.

“You will not,” Sherlock whispered menacingly low. If harm were to come to John or any of the others he would kill himself.

“Oh I will, in fact I already have snipers waiting for my signal, they will shoot your friends and you will have no one left. Only if they see you jump, only if your dear precious skull splits on the grey asphalt and only when your sweet crimson blood stains it, they will not shoot.”

“Jim you carried things too far,” Sherlock said as he brought the other back to the safety of the roof, he paced slowly, his skin prickling as Jim watched him. He felt afraid for some reason, afraid of Jim and fear wasn’t something that Sherlock always dealt with, “If you love me, then you will let me go Jim,” Sherlock said turning to the madman now, he had nothing left to bargain for.  

“No no no, you can forget about letting you go. I’m not letting you go again,” Jim said as he pulled Sherlock to him, “I am not going to let you go. Never again. I shouldn’t have listened to your brother in the first place, but look at me, I’m a coward what can I do,” he whispered.

Sherlock kept silent now the gears in his mind whirring, and finally generating an idea, “You can call them off,” Sherlock said, grasping the other by the shoulders, shaking him, “Jim, you can call them off and then we can talk, please!” Sherlock said.

Jim shook his head now, he had played a losing game and now he would pay the price. If they talked, Jim knew very well that Sherlock would probably be lost to him again, “Yes. Yes we could. We could talk and I could tell you things. We could solve this whole problem and possibly live happily ever after Sherlylocks, just like in the fairytales,” Jim said as he took a step back now, “We could do all that, but…” Jim said his hand reaching to the holster, fingers feathering over the cold butt of the gun, “this is reality Sherlock and in reality life isn’t a bed of roses.”

Sherlock balked seeing the gun flipped out in seconds then the next it had been brought to his head and the gun shot rang out loud through the chilled London air, Jim’s body falling to the ground, the gun clattering out of his hand as crimson blood pooled around his head, forming a ghastly red halo.

“No! No!” Sherlock yelled, dropping to his knees and shaking the body before him, “Jim Moriarty!” he howled to the cold winter air, fear gripping tight to him now as he knew what would come next. He looked at Moriarty’s pale face eyes blankly staring up at the world. He leant in, closing the other’s eyes now.

“What a cold twisted love you have Jim Moriarty…” he whispered, standing now. _‘It’s all your fault Sherlock your fault for not going to him earlier. Your fault for thinking you can put things right just by talking to him…’_ he thought, walking to the edge in a trance now.

Sherlock stepped over onto the ledge, the wind blowing hard against him as though wanting to push him down itself for his deeds. He deserved this didn’t he? After all he had done to Jim, making him suffer in silence. All Jim had wanted was for Sherlock to join him…was it that hard?

They had been together once before…then again...He leaned forward a little looking down at the pavement, death would be swift and certain from this height. With one last look back at Jim whose body lay in a pool of his own blood, Sherlock fell forward into the wind, eyes closed. In the end, he too wasn’t any better. He was a coward who hid in his work, used his work as an excuse to keep people away.

People began to gather on the sidewalk now around the body of a man, some calling out the hospital staff. Other’s watching as the crimson blood stained the sidewalk. From the building next door, Sebastian Moran packed up his gun. Sherlock Holmes was dead as was Jim Moriarty, they were together in death. There was nothing more for him to do but to leave once more, with his master gone. He was free once again.

Sebastian slung the satchel over his shoulder as he stepped out into the crisp London air, the sirens wailing through the streets. He was alone again. _‘It only takes one moment to change everything…to save the one you love…or to let him go…’_

And Sebastian had let him go.

-FIN-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Well i hope you guys liked this story. It wasn't very long though. Leave me some comments to let me know what you guys think!

**Author's Note:**

> So, now that you've read it, i would like to ask you all if...YOU WOULD LIKE TO HAVE MORE CHAPTERS? Because if you are i would really love to continue this story :) So do leave me a comment and tell me if you would like a continuation of this story! I love all my readers! Peace!


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